The Three-Week Arrangement (Chase Brothers) (4 page)

“Permanently on the plane?” Her face lit and her eyes danced, and he was struck by how pretty she was. And how stupid
he sounded. “No,” she said, “but I’m leaving the city. I’m up for a photography internship, and if I don’t get that, I have a contingency plan. Either way I’m gone. But for what it’s worth, no one would believe I dated anyone longer than that anyway.”

“Why not?” He couldn’t imagine her being single for long. Not with a smile like that.

She sighed. “Every guy I’ve dated has proven to
be a jerk once the novelty wears off. I mean, it has to be me, or it wouldn’t always
happen
to me, but some things just aren’t cool.”

“Such as?” He’d been afraid to ask, but how could anyone
not
ask?

“Pilfering cash. Selling my underwear. Driving my car.” Her eyes narrowed. “
No one
drives my car.”

He stopped short of asking how many people were allowed to kick her car. Because
what the
hell
? “Did you say someone sold your underwear?”

“There’s an entire industry,” she said dryly. “There’s an
app
.”

“Yeah, so I’m guessing you don’t need to take the blame for the demise of that particular relationship.” God, he knew he was in New York, but an
app
? He cleared his throat. “So, what, you’ve never been in anything long term?”

She shook her head. “My average
relationship, though I loathe to call them that, has been four weeks or less. I did have one last longer. He was great.”

He blinked, almost afraid to ask. “So what happened?”

“He was a model with aspirations of becoming an A-lister. Apparently he thought he had to uphold a certain image to close the gap, and long story short, I found out I was his beard.”

“His
what
?” He’d lived
in New York City his entire life, but after a few minutes with this woman, he felt like he’d been living under a rock.

She shrugged. “He was gay, and I was supposed to make it look like he wasn’t. He was an awesome boyfriend, though. Probably still is to that guy he was seeing the whole time he was with me.”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah. So needless to say, my faith in relationships is about
as good as my luck. If you want temporary, I’m your girl.”

He caught the hint of sadness lining the flippant remark and instantly hated whoever had done that to her. He couldn’t fix that—hell, he couldn’t fix
himself
—but he could make her life a bit easier. “If you want a date, I’m your man. Although I’m not sure if that’ll get your mom off your back.”

She rolled her eyes. “Probably
not, but actually dating someone is better than just saying I have a date. By the time she finds out we’re over, I’ll be on my way to South America.” She grinned. “I hear the cell reception down there is bad.”

He snorted. “I doubt that’s true of the entire continent.”

“She’ll never know the difference. Anything outside of a major world city might as well be Aboriginal, as far as she’s
concerned.” Rue’s voice softened. “Why do you need your family to think you’re dating someone? Surely they understand what you’ve been through. They must care.”

He released a sigh that bordered on a grunt. “They do. They care and care and
care
until I can’t breathe. And yet I didn’t realize how bad it was until I went to the house today, and everyone looked so damned relieved. All because
your mom called mine to discuss the news that we were going to the gala together. They didn’t even know if it was true, but it was like the possibility was enough. It was all they needed.”

“They probably should worry a little more about what you need.”

“They think they are. Which is why it really needs to look like we’re dating, so they’ll stop driving me crazy with all of their worrying.
But we won’t be. Dating, I mean.”

Her brow furrowed. “This isn’t easy for you, is it?”

Against all odds, the knot in his chest loosened. “No. But it shouldn’t be this hard. Especially considering this isn’t personal.”

She blinked. “I saw you in your underwear. It’s personal.”

He cringed. “I need a do-over on that moment. And that’s not what I meant.” He withdrew one of
his business cards from his wallet, which had fortunately been sheltered from the brunt of the spray that afternoon, and handed it to her. “I’ll run interference with Boyd, and I won’t sell your underwear. You try to keep a straight face when I introduce you to my family as my girlfriend, and don’t hold whatever my brothers say against me.”

She studied the card for a moment. When she looked
up, her expression was serious. “Are you going to freak out next time I touch you?”

“I freaked out?”
Hell yes
, he had, though he’d merely frozen. She couldn’t know that his arm still tingled—even more so now that she’d actually said she was going to touch him again. He hadn’t expected that, but he should have. There was no way they’d pull off dating if he avoided physical contact.

“You sure you want to do this?” she asked in lieu of a response.

The question had him thinking she could read him a little too well for his own good, but it wasn’t a stretch to think he’d have trouble with this step. If it was easy, he wouldn’t be negotiating with her.

“Yeah,” he said. “I’m sure.” The words hurt to utter, but he’d get over it. He couldn’t begin to explain what seeing
his parents’ joy had done for him. But he wouldn’t have to, because if Rue wanted to keep Boyd Von Whatever out of her hair, she needed him as much as he needed her. Once his family realized he was capable of moving on, they’d back off and let him do things his way, and with Rue leaving the city in just three weeks, he had the perfect out to this non-relationship. “I’m sure if you’re sure.”

“I think I can handle hanging out with you if it means getting Boyd off my back.”

“I’m glad it won’t be torture,” he said dryly.

“Oh, I didn’t say that.” Her gaze, intentionally or otherwise, took a slow tour south and lingered before she remembered where his face was. “It’ll be torture all right,” she said, blue eyes dancing. “The very best kind of torture, but if it means you’ll
take me to the gala, you’re on.”

“Then it’s a date.” The words were harder than he expected. He forced a smile as he let himself out of her house, but it fell as soon as the door shut behind him. He stared down the street, in the direction his life had once been, and couldn’t help but wonder.

What the hell had he done?

Chapter Three

Three days later, Ethan still wasn’t sure his plan had been a good one. On paper, it made sense, but in execution, he was dealing with feelings—notably his—and he’d yet come to terms with what he’d been thinking. But for all of his second thoughts, one big point remained a beacon, and that was not being pitied for the first time since Amy’s diagnosis nearly five years
ago. Still, he was using Rue, or planning to, and while she knew that and would also benefit from their arrangement, it didn’t sit well with him that he was asking her to be dishonest on his behalf. He didn’t like misleading his family, but loosely interpreted, maybe he wasn’t.

Maybe he was just helping them get over their unrelenting need to feel sorry for him.

When Rue had texted
him with her phone number, he’d replied by inviting her to his apartment for a pre-planned event that just happened to be well-timed. The place was long overdue for a coat of paint, and all three of his brothers had a break in their schedule and were coming over to get the job done. He hoped they could finish it in a single afternoon. If he was going to make any strides toward convincing his family
he was moving on, he needed witnesses, so it seemed like an ideal and largely impersonal way to introduce Rue to the whole crew at once.

Or so he’d thought.

The moment he saw her standing in his doorway, he knew better.

She looked fantastic. He didn’t want to notice, but he took unwelcome note of every soft, womanly curve. She wore a pair of faded, well-worn cut-offs and a pink
tee that matched her lips. Her dark hair touched her shoulders, the ends flipping playfully in a way that seemed to capture every carefree thing he knew about her. Granted, the situation with Boyd had gotten to her, but she’d dealt with every other blow—from getting locked out of everything she owned to opening her home to him after her neighbor tried to drown him—with an easy smile and a light
that he envied.

And he envied it still, because despite the likely overwhelming number of Chase men in his apartment, she exuded warmth and humor. And it was a good thing, because his brothers weren’t exactly known for their good behavior. Between them, very few verbal punches were ever left on the table.

“Hey,” he said, almost certain that in a single syllable, he’d completely failed
at sounding casual. She gave him an encouraging smile, and he felt like a jerk. How hard did this have to be? He met new people every day on the job. He handled it. And this wasn’t any different, because despite what his heart and stomach seemed to think, this woman was effectively a business acquaintance. “Guys, this is Rue Campbell.”

“Well, hot damn. She really does exist.” Sawyer, ever
the statesman, stepped forward and offered his hand. “I’m Sawyer, Ethan’s older and much wiser brother.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Rue said, laughing.
Glowing
. She turned to Ethan’s other older brother. “As the only one wearing a ring, you must be Crosby.”

“That I am,” he said, slightly more civilized than Sawyer. At least so far, though his curiosity was undisguised. “It’s great to
meet you. And you clearly did your research.”

She grinned. “I’m not one to walk into a den of testosterone without doing my homework.”

Ethan’s younger brother took his cue. “Then you must know I’m Liam. The good-looking one.”

“And yet the only single one in the group,” Ethan said.

Liam’s mouth snapped shut, while Crosby and Sawyer snickered. Unfortunately, Liam didn’t stay
down long. “Didn’t you say a couple days ago that she
wasn’t
your girlfriend?” he asked, smiling warmly, managing not to sound rude despite the jab.

Crosby shot him a warning look. “They had to start dating at some point, didn’t they?”

Ethan sent him a silent
thank you
and hoped his brothers hadn’t noticed how difficult it was for Ethan to breathe around this woman.
Any
woman, he corrected.
Rue just happened to be the one in the room. His supposed girlfriend, to whom he’d barely spoken. All three of his brothers watched openly, so he placed his hand at the small of her back and took her to the far corner of the room. Not that it was far in the small apartment, let alone far enough, but it would do.

He leaned in to whisper his thanks, but before he could utter a word, her scent
took his breath all over again. Her house had a lightly floral thing going on, so the crisp, sweet smell of apples caught him completely off guard. He stood there a beat too long. Long enough for Rue to turn her head and smile, her mouth a whopping six inches from his. Long enough for his heart to skip a beat. Definitely long enough for his brothers to notice.

“Huh. I’m almost convinced,”
Liam said under his breath.

Ethan withdrew, not having uttered a word, and blinked the room into focus. Liam studied them with open curiosity. Sawyer and Crosby exchanged glances, the two of them looking thick as thieves. Sawyer caught Ethan’s eye, and for some godawful reason, it felt like a warning—one he wasn’t sure Rue would pick up on, having known Sawyer all of a minute.

Cue
the third degree.

“So,” Sawyer said to her, far too casually. “How did you and my brother meet?”

“I caught him staring at my…car,” she said with a playful lilt, not missing a beat. “And the rest is history.”

Very recent history, and even that was an understatement.

Sawyer had clearly expected the first part of that sentence to go in another direction, and Ethan was relieved
it hadn’t. He was suddenly all too aware that, despite the warning about his brothers, he hadn’t told Rue what to expect from this group. Fortunately, she seemed to be able to handle it, and he remembered she had a brother of her own. One with terrible taste in pajamas.

“Must have been some car,” Liam said.

“Sixty-six Mustang,” Rue replied, her expression utterly serious. “Very few
people fail to notice the car.”

Sawyer snorted.

Ethan picked up a handful of paintbrushes, hoping to turn the conversation back to something safe. Something like watching paint dry. “You guys can grill her later,” he said. “These walls won’t paint themselves.”

“What color are you painting?” Rue asked.

Liam rolled his eyes. “This is Ethan we’re talking about. White. What
else?”

“It’s a small apartment,” Ethan countered. “White is brighter.”

“White is
boring
,” Liam shot back.

“I’m not looking to my walls for excitement,” Ethan said, his tone dry.

“Yeah,” Sawyer said pointedly. “Forgive us for not believing that you had
any
other source.”

On that note, all four of them looked at Rue, who blinked. “Am I supposed to be exciting?” When
not one of them replied, she shook her head. “I guess all brothers are the same.”

Sawyer’s face twisted in mock offense. “I take it you have an utterly charming brother of your own?”

“Charming.
There’s
a word I hadn’t thought to use.”

Much to Ethan’s relief, they all laughed and started digging through the brushes and trays. He relaxed a notch. Either they believed he and Rue
were dating, or they didn’t, and they let it go. Neither option seemed particularly plausible, but the end result was far better than he’d hoped for.

As soon as his brothers were distracted, he pulled Rue into his bedroom, which, aside the bathroom, was the only private space in the apartment. He did his best to ignore the looks from his brothers, and he prayed Rue hadn’t heard the catcall
that followed.

“Well, that was interesting,” she said, a smile softening her words.

“I’m sorry. I should have warned you.”

“You did.”

“I don’t think there’s such thing as adequate warning for putting up with them.”

“Be that as it may,” she said with a laugh, “that’s probably true for most families. I’m glad I can be here for you. I just hope they’re not too hard on
you when we’re…after our necessary breakup.”

“If you’re leaving on assignment,” he said, “it won’t be too bad.” Maybe. They’d probably end up feeling sorry for him all over again, but with a mundane, geographically necessitated breakup both parties survived, the pity wouldn’t be the same. He hoped.

She touched his chest, her fingertips toying with a small hole in his shirt. The contact
left his synapses firing a ragged chorus, and he couldn’t help but wonder if she felt it, too. But why should she? She might have crappy luck with dates, but at least she had them. Whereas he was in territory he hadn’t entered since his freshman year of high school when he’d met Amy.

But for once, Amy was only a fleeting thought. Because the woman standing in his bedroom with him was touching
him, and he didn’t hate it. In fact, he liked having someone on his side—especially someone who saw
him
and not a widower. He wondered how long her scent would linger. And how long she’d poke at that hole in shirt. He must look like a slob, but who cared what they looked like when they were painting?

Rue cared what she looked like, he realized. Or maybe she didn’t
care
so much as she just
couldn’t help but look that damned good.

“Have you ever tried telling them?” she asked.

He was so lost in thought, it took him a few seconds to realize she was talking about his brothers. “Telling them what? To back off?”

She tilted her head. “Yes. I can tell you guys are close. You want them to think you’re getting back out there, but instead of misleading them, have you ever
thought about just saying you’re where you need to be right now?”

He frowned. “I’m not trying to be dishonest. Not with my family and not with you. It’s more about easing a burden I didn’t realize they carried until they found out I supposedly had a date. My brothers will give you a hard time—and I really should have better warned you about that—and I know they won’t let this go, but I want
them to see that I’m okay. Not being ready to date doesn’t mean I’m not fine, but they refuse to see that.”

“That’s really sweet of you to want to do this for them,” she said, toying again with that hole in his shirt, “but what about easing
your
burdens?”

He shook his head, not so distracted by the surprising intimacy of a simple touch that he forgot why he was there. “I don’t want
to move on like they want me to. I really am happy alone. No one seems to understand that.”

She frowned. “Have you really been such a recluse that you shocked them all by having a female friend who accompanies you to public events?”

He gave a slight shrug that didn’t really lighten the mood as he hoped. “You saw them. Vultures.”

She cracked a small smile. It was contagious, leaving
him off guard. Off kilter. Dizzy. She
dizzied
him. It had to be the sheer novelty of it, but he didn’t like thinking that, either. He didn’t want to take anything from Rue, who had already proven to be genuine, open, and caring. But he’d met plenty of women like that, and yet she was still different. Maybe it was the hair. He longed to ask what inspired the cut, but he didn’t want her to take
the question as a thinly veiled dig. Or he could blame the car—the one no one was allowed to touch but that she kicked. Perhaps it was the simple fact that she’d hung out with penguins in South America. She was definitely her own person, and one largely unconcerned by anyone else’s expectations of her. That alone was enough to make her one of the most intriguing people he’d ever met. Of course he
was thinking about her. Who wouldn’t?

The guy with the wife probably shouldn’t.

But that wasn’t him. Not anymore, and not for a long time now.

“Can I ask you a question?” Rue asked. “About…about your wife?”

“Yeah,” he said. “You can. But only if you don’t ever hesitate again. Not when it’s about Amy.” He was so damned tired of people walking on eggshells.

“Okay,”
she said softly. “Did she mind if you had female friends?”

“I didn’t have many,” he said. “But I don’t think she would have cared. She never questioned or cross-examined me, not even when I was out with Sawyer. The way he went through women before he met his fiancée, that’s a pretty good sign that she didn’t feel like she had anything to worry about.”

“So if she was okay with it then,
why feel guilty about having one now?”

“Because,” he said without hesitation, “none of them looked like you.”

Her eyes widened in surprise. “That wasn’t what I expected.”

“I didn’t expect you, either, so we’re even.”

He could have sworn she blushed, but that didn’t seem like something she’d do. “No changing the subject,” she said. “My point is you have no reason to feel
bad about this. I mean, your wife knew your brothers. She would probably love that you’re pulling one over on them, and it’s not like I’m going to ever really take her place. You might want your family to think that, but you and I both know I’m leaving. The terms of this relationship are non-negotiable.” She poked him in the chest. “So deal with it. And pretend you’re happy, because no one is going
to believe you if you hang on to that deer-in-the-headlights look.”

He almost smiled. “In my defense, I’m more worried about what my brothers will say to you than I am by telling them you’re my…with me.”

She smirked. “Yeah, I can see how comfortable you are.”

“Nevertheless.”

He probably meant to say more, but she’d grabbed his hand. Or, not so much grabbed, but threaded
her fingers through his like it was nothing. And it shouldn’t have been, but his heart hammered and twisted while
three weeks
flashed in his head like neon.

Three weeks was nothing.

Right
.

He could drown a thousand times in three weeks.

“I’m not a PDA kind of guy,” he told her. One last-ditch effort to save himself. Futile, he’d guess, but he had a feeling he was in way
over his head. “Just so you know.”

“And just so you know, you’ll be fine. In fact, I think you already are.” She tugged him by their joined hands toward the door. “Now let’s go convince them of that.”